Cursed
by The.Clown.That.Smiles
Summary: Sometimes a brother has too be mean to try and save you.


_This is a small piece of crappy, work._

_ I actually got inspiration for this. It came from when I suddenly found myself thinking of a piece I read that an author did with Marko and an OC on her blog. It comes from her. This focuses on an OC being pulled into the boys family by Paul. I guess I thought of Boadicea a little when I wrote this. Not sure why. It's with my OC and Marko, but it's to do with Paul._

_Disclaimer - Don't own the Lost Boys._

* * *

The swing suddenly became taken, the empty seat now being filled next to her. A crisp breeze rolled from the trees that surrounded all around the two figures and the one blinked slightly. The other pair of eyes stayed rooted to the ground, and hands gripped the chains tighter on the swing. The breeze picked up to a strong wind, and the stars became covered by dark thick, grey, clouds. They swept over her head, threatening to rain down on the two at any given moment. Nothing mattered, nothing mattered to her, not now, not anymore.

The grass moved back and forth as the wind swept through it, and the scent of pollen filled their senses. Other than the wind, and the slight creak of the one swing, all was silent around and between them. Her eyes never moved from the spot they were in, and she ignored his presence all together. She just wanted to be left alone. No, she didn't care if he was there, if he wasn't, if they all turned up. It meant nothing. There was nothing. The feelings she had felt for him…were they gone, or could she not find them, feel them? Whatever it was, she couldn't see him the same as before, and when she looked at him, it wasn't full of the feelings from before. No, grief, pain, and betrayal flashed in her eyes when they looked at each other. It didn't matter to her anymore because there was no escape. She was a monster.

''What are you doing, Yvette?'' He spoke then but she didn't given an answer. He looked at her, but her eyes still remained on the ground. There was a distinct haunting look in them, but the strings of pain and anguish could be seen. Marko looked away, hating feeling the pain of a brother he shouldn't ever have to feel, all down to her. The swing creaked when she moved her legs, but her eyes never wavered once. A light rain began to shower down on them, and she felt it burn her bare shoulders and arms. Marko shoved his hands into his pockets, protecting them, but she did nothing. She welcomed the pain, welcomed the feel of the rain burning away her flesh in slow and painful amounts.

Slipping off his jacket, he draped it over her shoulders, and then sat back down. ''Why are you fighting?'' Marko pulled a cigarette from out of the box that had magically appeared in thin air. ''There's no going back, you know that.'' His eyes flickered to hers for a fraction of a second as he brought the cigarette to his lips. Looking away, he struck the match across the box and lit the end, instantly watching it glow a burning orange.

She stopped swinging; those eyes went still, clean of any emotion. ''I'm hurting.''

The cigarette stopped half way to his lips. Her voice was so faint even his sensitive ears barely caught her words.

''You're hurting.'' His eyes went to her. ''Stop fighting. It'll only make the hunger worse. In fact, Stop fighting all together.''

''Why do you think I do?'' Her voice seemed dead, but bitter almost. She didn't want an answer. He knew, she knew, they all knew. A small tear rolled down her marble, white, cheek and, grinding the cigarette out with the tip of his boot, he stood up from the swing.

Pulling her up, his hands grabbed the top of her arms. ''You're weak. Paul didn't go through all this shit for nothing. Stop fighting and holding back. You're a vampire now and there's no escape.'' His eyes pierced hers, and he watched the tears stop forming in her eyes.

''Nobody wants this''

She laughed and it was cold and bitter to his ears. ''Liar. You seem…Paul certainly seems happy being what he is, ripping people apart.''

''It's what we are.'' He gripped her arms tighter, staring at her more intently. ''What you are.''

''No'' she shook her head and, slipping off his jacket, threw it at him. ''I'll never be like you.''

He grinned and it was his turn to shake his head. ''You already are.'' He moved away from her and looked up at the sky for a second, an unreadable look crossing his face. It was clear to see what, who, he was thinking about. Paul. It vanished and he looked back at her. ''Paul's dear to me, and I can see you're hurting so it's understandable.'' He moved back towards her and a threatening and serious look came across his features. ''But get used to it. Stop moping and get your ass together. If you hurt Paul…the term don't hit women won't apply with me. It'll be more than that. For now, I can let you grovel in your shit and wait for the shock to go.''

Fear struck within and then, covering it up with anger, she hit him hard across the face. The sound echoed in the still nights air. Eyes suddenly burned a bright orange and her's widened when she stared into his demonised ones. She was suddenly thrown into the bar of the swing, and fear increased as they stared at each other. The hand print became visible on his face and those eyes burned into hers. ''Want to do that again?''

She never said anything and after a minute of silence, he moved away.

She moved back. ''You're not...I'm not your family. You're not my brother, you're evil'' Shaking her head in a mixture of fear, disgust and hurt, she moved back again and, then, a second later, took to the air. Marko watched her go and, lighting up another cigarette, he sat back down on the swing. Smoke rings were made, and Paul's voice entered his head seconds later.

Blowing another ring, he began to swing. ''Yeah, she just left me.'' Marko looked around when he picked up the sound of movements. Eyes zoomed in on a middle aged couple walking hand in hand towards the park, smiling and talking amongst each other. He looked away and brought the cigarette to his lips. ''I don't know. I'm at the park''

''Is she still being depressed?'' Behind the anger and annoyance, Marko detected the hurt within his brother's voice. This struck something within him. To see the joker feeling this...it just wasn't Paul. He didn't want it for him, but the worry formed deeper every passing night when he would see what she was like. Paul was going to lose her if it carried on. If she carried on, they all knew what the option would be, and Marko closed his eyes, feeling Paul's hurt, and then the thought if that happened.

''Marko, is she?''

Marko paused. ''Yeah, Paul.'' He frowned slightly. ''I'm sorry.''

''Forget it. It's my shit, I'll handle it.''

He went then and Marko shook the frown away. Would it get through to her through? Could he stop feeling the shit he was feeling from Paul? None wanted to see a family member in pain, and it was hurting like shit. The swing stopped moving when the couple began to walk past the bars of the park area.

''I'm hungry. Can we get something to eat? ''

His eyes went towards them, landing on the guy who smiled at the female. Bringing the cigarette to his lips, he began watching them.

''Me too.'' The guy put an arm around her. ''Food it is then''

They moved further away and Marko stood. Flicking his cigarette away, he slipped his jacket on. ''Why not.'' He followed them. ''Food sounds good.''

It wasn't enjoyable for him. It didn't taste good, as all he could feel was the pain from Paul and her. Love was a load of shit and one that, Marko now realised, the undead shouldn't be able to feel even if it were rare. It sucked dick, and it seemed like a bloody curse.


End file.
